Hermione, New And Improved!
by nitric-hamster
Summary: Dumbledore continued. ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news for you all. The sorting hat, I have been informed, is either possessed by lord Voldemort or having an identity crisis.' WARNING: random
1. Funky Sunglasses

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, or else I wouldn't be writing a disclaimer.

Chapter One 

**Funky Sunglasses**

'Students,' Dumbledore bellowed. Like magic, every young person in the hall silenced simultaneously. Neville Longbottom and his toad Trevor, who had been trying to communicate with each other, stopped in mid croak. The both gaped at each other and wondered why the heck they couldn't talk. Neville shrugged it off and turned to listen to Dumbledore. An unsuspecting Trevor was snatched by a random house elf, and moments later the Slytherin table enjoyed a requested entrée of fried frog's legs.

'Students,' Dumbldore repeated. He lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. 'Students. Students. Wow, that's one neat word. Anyway, welcome new squirts, welcome back old fogies. The food will come after the sorting, followed by my usual spiel about the forbidden forest and that stupid list of Filch's. Now, where's that singing hat…'

The students would have started whispering again had professor McGonagall not stood to say something nervously in the Headmaster's ear. The pupils stared vacantly at Dumbledore, who looked alarmed at first. It was only for a minute, however; he managed to regain his cool by stuffing some funky sunglasses on his head.

'Students,' he said, very calmly. However, a sheen of sweat covered his balding head from behind the funky sunglasses. It looked like he was nervous, but about what? A few students wondered if he'd just hit senility. Old, senile folk sometimes sweat like that…but senile people generally don't have sunglasses that darn cool.

Dumbledore continued, wiping his face off with his beard. 'I'm afraid I have some bad news for you all,' he said slowly. 'The sorting hat, I have been informed, is either possessed by Lord Voldemort or having an identity crisis… Therefore, I have just brilliantly come up with a strategic and orderly way to sort the first year midgets over there into their houses. You're all in Slytherin, go to that table over there. Now eat.'

But no one ate the food that magically appeared on their tables. For, at that very moment, a gorgeous someone happened to strut into the Great Hall. Everything in slow motion, heads swiveled around a full three hundred sixty degrees, like in The Exorcist, and then turned normally to watch Hermione Granger enter Hogwarts. She strode (slowly) over to the Gryffindor table and sat (slowly) in her seat with a toss of velvety hair.

The new and improved Hermione Granger was home.


	2. Harry's Confession

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, or else I wouldn't be writing a disclaimer

(A/N: Not for Ron fans! I warn you now…so please don't flame me later!))

**Chapter Two**

**Harry's Confession**

'Whhhhy's everyyyythiiiiing in slooooow mooooooo?' Harry asked. Slowly.

'I finally figured out how to use my time turner to flatter my butt,' Hermione replied sweetly. Not that it needed flattering. She was no longer the Hermione Granger that looked like she had a squirrel on her head and a jaw transplant with a beaver. She was now a finely carved Adonis, with a hairdo to rival that of someone with a great hairdo. Hermione cocked an eyebrow at the author's strange analogy, but said nothing, because she was so grateful for the said hairdo.

'Hermione!' Harry exclaimed through a mouth of half eaten shrimp. He dropped his fork in shock, but easily regained his cool by placing a pair of funky sunglasses on his head. Ron, however, had no sunglasses. He ran off shrieking uncooly into the distance, presumably to go get some funky sunglasses. Or, if not, to get some shrimp. Harry had just eaten the last of it and Ron was too eccentric to just go to the end of the table and get some more.

'Yes?' Hermione asked. She acted like she hadn't noticed Ron's little flight. Instead, she batted her ridiculously long lashes at Harry, causing him to flush. She batted them at him faster, and more urgently, until she got up shrieking 'There's something in my eye! Get it out!'. Harry didn't believe this though. She was SO flirting with him.

When she sat back down whatever was in there had seeped out, but somehow the globs of mascara she wore had managed to fuse together. She couldn't touch her eye in case her makeup smudged, so she decided to pry them apart without using fingers. It was then, as her left eyeball began to twitch like a squirrel hyped up on caffeine, that Harry chose to proclaim his love to her.

'Hermione,' he said. He seemed to have a large ball of phlegm caught in his throat, blocking his oxygen supply. He gulped and tried to ignore the constant fear of rejection battering his stomach. Taking a deep breath, he began.

'Er, Hermione…I've known you for a really long time. A really really long time.' He waited hopefully for a response on Hermione's part.

'Yes!' she cried. She thought her lashes had come undone, and tried opening her eye.

'So long now you'd think I'd be sick of you…'

'Damn!' Hermione cursed as she found out it was her left eye she'd been thinking of. Her right was still glued shut.

'But I'm not!' Harry added quickly. Whew, that had been a close one. He wondered, though, why Hermione was twitching so. Was this how nerds show affection? He decided it probably was, and began to jerk around a bit in his seat.

'Hermione, I love you,' Harry decalred. 'It's not just because you are now a sexy, voluptuous goddess…' He allowed himself to pause a minute and drool, not forgetting to twitch a little for emphasis.

'Oh YES!' Hermione shouted triumphantly. Like a Cyclops, she saw a random safety pin in a nearby plate of shrimp.

'I admit it does help a little,' Harry commented, looking her up and down. The nasty perv. No wonder he couldn't get himself a girlfriend for the past five years.

This was going smoother than Harry had thought it would when he carefully planned out this spur of the moment proclamation of love. He continued: 'Hermione…will you…' He got down on one knee. 'Will you marry me?'

He gazed at her tenderly and offered her a ring; a ring like no other. He had chosen it out himself weeks, with the intention of ruling Middle Earth with it, as the tag had claimed. However, he thought it would be put to better use winning Hermione's heart.

'Please,' he pleaded. 'Please answer me…_my precious_.'

Hermione stared at the ring, again like a Cyclops. Except what she lacked in depth perception she made up for in perfect hair. However, it was as she stared at this ring she happened to drop her safety pin right in a giant bowl of shrimp.

'No!' she cried piteously. Harry looked up at her, then his ring, then at the shrimp bowl with tears welling in his eyes. He ate a few shrimp and then began to ponder what had just happened. How could she do this to him? After all they had been through together? He had assumed she returned his ardor. He ran out of the hall much in Ron's fashion, shrieking and bawling at the top of his lungs. The multitudes of first year Slytherins watched the spectacle with mild interest, and then shrugged. They continued to munch on a requested entrée of fried frog's legs.


	3. Fowl Play

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, or else I wouldn't be writing a disclaimer.

(A/N: Ok, im sorry about this being confusing and all but note that I'm writing this mostly for my own entertainment. So I'm sorry…but I did edit the first two chapters, hope they're at least a little better!)

Chapter Three 

**Fowl Play**

'Prefects, lead the first years to their dorms!'

Hermione ignored the issue, seeing as she had no first years to lead. McGonagall had given the order, as Dumbledore had already retired to his office to investigate the sorting hat. The day he would allow Voldemort to roam HIS school, he'd eat his hat…mainly because it was possessed by the latter. Even the Dark Lord wouldn't be able to withstand the power of an old man's digestive system.

Hermione walked out of the hall all alone. Her pumps clacked against the flagstone floor, sending lonely echoes ricocheting through Hogwarts. She hummed something to herself to break the eerie silence. Who would have guessed she was a baritone?

She was so absorbed in her hum-fest that she didn't notice a certain blonde head bobbing through the halls behind her. It came as a shock when, as she admired herself in a coincidentally placed mirror, she saw Draco Malfoy lurking behind her.

'Why Granger,' he purred.

'What do you want, Malfoy?' Hermione shot back. She gave him her most evil glare, which wasn't evil at all considering the masses of goop she had slathered over her face. There was so much make up on there that, ten minutes later, her face was still caked in a scowl.

'I just wanted to warn you…' Malfoy muttered. 'There is…a squirrel…on your head.'

'Oh my GOD!' Hermione shrieked. Her hand flew up to her head, but found no rodents nesting there.

'Oh wait, that's just your hair,' Malfoy smirked. Hermione would have glared at him again, but her face was already contorted into one. So she didn't bother. He was such a prick!

'Bugger off Malfoy,' Hermione sneered. 'Unless you have something useful to say.' She slowly reached into her pocket. Malfoy thought she was about to pull out her wand, but instead, she pulled out a shrimp and viciously bit the head off. _There is something seriously wrong with this chick_, he thought.

'I just wanted to tell you,' he muttered. He leaned up to her ear, so close his breath rustled her perfect hairdo. 'There is a fine in this school for being too hot…and you are guilty.' He smiled wolfishly at her and backed away. Hermione giggled and blushed under all that foundation.

'I'm flattered, Malfoy,' she grinned, 'but I hate y'-

'No, I'm serious,' Malfoy cut in curtly. 'Nine sickles, hand 'em over.'

'How dare you! I will do no such thing!' Hermione cried furiously. 'I think I shall scoff haughtily in your general direction!' And that she did. But, right as she was about to storm off, Dumbledore came jogging down the hall.

'I have destroyed the dark Lord Voldemort!' he whooped happily. He waved a flattened sorting cap over his head like a war banner and whooped again.

'Voldie's hat, Voldie's hat, I smashed it flat and that was that!' he sang. 'I've never seen a hat as flat as that! Let's turn it into a doormat!' He joyfully hugged Draco and Hermione, and then pranced off.

'That was interesting,' Hermione muttered blandly. '…And if you'll excuse me, Malfoy, I have some pressing business to attend to.'

'And what would that be?' Malfoy snapped. Hermione didn't bother to dignify his answer with a response. She stalked off and refused to dignify him with a response.

Malfoy was furious with her. No one turned him down, no one! But she just had. He was fuming, but he refused to let his emotions show. It would ruin his bad boy image. Instead of chasing after her and knocking some sense into that vacant head, he put on some funky sunglasses and marched off.

Later that day, Hermione found herself, once again, in the company of Ron and Harry. She wasn't sure where they had gone or when they returned, but they both came back with several cans of shrimp. So everyone was happy.

Harry coughed slightly and looked over at Hermione. She was so beautiful…he just had to have her. He had to, or he would die a slow and painful death, a horrid death, an utterly grotesque and inhumane death, without her he would not be nothing…he shook his head, telling himself not to use double negatives in a run on sentence.

'Hermione,' he finally said to her.

'Harry,' Hermione replied. They paused, staring deeply into each other's eyes…like two humming birds. No one was quite sure why, but they were more like two hummingbirds than, say, two pairs of funky sunglasses. For they were definitely not cool. Both perspired under the other's gaze, Harry passionate, Hermione uneasy. It was Ron who broke the awkward silence by chucking his owl at Harry. Peeved, Harry whistled for Hedwig and when she came, chucked her right back at Ron. Soon it evolved to an all-out owl fight. Feathers flew, beaks smashed holes in the wall and Hermione ate the remainder of the shrimp. The owl fight ended as quickly as it started, however, when the two boys ran out of suitable owls. Most were stuck in the walls, struggling to pull their beaks free, or had flown out the window.

Harry and Ron panted heavily, sitting down next to Hermione. They were both exhausted. Ron looked around and asked dejectedly, 'Where have all the shrimp gone?'


	4. Yummm, Pie

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, or else I wouldn't be writing a disclaimer.

(A/N: This is a tribute to all my buddies in Scotland, and to Kristen R.---too sexxy!)

Chapter Four 

**Yummm, Pie…**

Seeing Harry in a kilt had definitely not made Hermione's day. In fact, it had given it a rather bad start. Especially considering he'd pulled a Marilyn Monroe on her. Ew.

She shuddered at the thought and continued to eat her delicious breakfast. She still wasn't quite sure what it was made of; the plate had been christened 'Mystery meat' by the school officials. Whatever it was, though, it was pretty damn good. So she was happy.

'This mystery meat stuff is delicious, what do you think?' she asked pleasantly to the only other person brave enough to try it: Seamus.

'Er…It's…' he began, but something cut him off. Hermione glanced over, guessing he was stunned by her abnormal sexiness. But Seamus was not staring at her. Instead, with the aid of a few alarmed fellow Gryffindors, he was propped up on the table staring in horror at his stomach. He let out a piteous groan as a lump forged itself there, bulging out further and further until suddenly, and without warning, a creepy little reptilian creature with oversized fangs popped out.

'Oh GOD!' he shrieked. And with that he fainted dead away, unaware of the screams erupting down the table. The creepy little reptilian creature with oversized fangs clambered all the way out of Seamus's stomach, and bared its teeth menacingly. The poor second year who'd been sitting next to Seamus looked petrified as it swiveled its head towards her. Despite the frantic warnings given to her, she didn't budge from the danger zone. Doubtless she couldn't not. She was too shocked by the creepy reptilian creature with oversized fangs and the fact the author had again used a double negative in a fragmented sentence to move.

But, instead of viciously attacking her like everyone expected, it turned and cleared its throat. And then, as the chapter took a horribly wrong twist and turned into a random songfic, he began to sing.

_I'm too sexy for my shirt too sexy for my shirt  
_

_So sexy it hurts_

_  
And I'm too sexy for Milan too sexy for Milan  
_

_New York and Japan_

He started dancing dirty and making his way across the table, twirling around on sticks of bread and break dancing on half empty plates along the way.

I'm too sexy for my car too sexy for my car 

_Too sexy by far_

_  
And I'm too sexy for my hat_

_  
Too sexy for my hat what do you think about that_

_I'm too sexy for my cat too sexy for my cat  
_

_Poor pussy poor pussy cat_

…Who would have guessed the creepy little reptilian thing had a cat? He twirled on his head in time to the music playing and kept on rockin'.

_I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love_

_  
Love's going to leave me_

And I'm too sexy for this song!

And with that, the creepy…screw that, it shall be called 'the thing' from now on, for lack of fingers still intact from typing. Moving on.

And then, with no further ado, 'the thing' jumped off the table and danced out of the room. Everyone stared after it for a minute, then shrugged and continued eating while Seamus was transported to the hospital wing.

'So Harry,' Hermione said cordially. She shoveled another spoonful of mystery meat into her heavily lined lips.

'Hermione…I don't think you should be eating that,' Harry muttered, eying the dish apprehensively.

'Nonsense, Harry,' Hermione smiled. 'I happen to know from reading a random book a ridiculous number of times that Seamus's little…_episode_ is due to a rare disorder known as 'indigestion.'

'Indigestion?' Harry asked curiously.

'Yes,' Hermione replied in her infinite wisdom. 'It is where what were formerly known as creepy reptilian creatures with oversized fangs, but are now known as things, pop out of people's stomach when they eat too much.'

'I thought indigestion is when you have to…' Harry stopped while he was ahead and shrunk into his seat, thinking about what Hermione would say to such a vulgar topic. Attractive people generally don't talk about things like that, he figured. He flushed bright crimson, to his horror, right in front of his one and only love. No matter, though. He quickly put on a pair of funky sunglasses to hide it.

'Nice sunnies, Harry,' Hermione commented. Harry perked up immediately, which Hermione noted with unease. She still didn't forget their earlier meeting, and a repeat of the incident might force her to obliviate herself.

'I'd ask you where you got them and all,' she muttered hastily, 'but I really must dash. I have to go…get something.' And with that she fled.

'Damn,' Harry swore. He had been about to impress her with more of his awesome kilt tricks. He sat back down with a sour look, and angrily bit off the head of a shrimp Ron offered him.

'Don't worry mate, she'll come round,' Ron said soothingly. 'And, if she doesn't, we have plenty of shrimp.

'Thanks,' Harry croaked. Behind the funky sunglasses he felt a tear escape his eye. Ron was such a wonderful friend, so tactful, and Harry felt lucky to have him. 'You're a great mate,' Harry smiled, and the two of them would have hugged in a fit of unmasculine behavior, had Hermione not reappeared in the doorway at that very moment.

The hall fell so still and silent, you could have heard a shrimp drop. But it wasn't Hermione's scantily clad self that shocked the girls and thrilled the guys. No. They were all so shocked/thrilled (known as throcked or shilled) because of what she was cradling in her arms.

A huge…

A giant…

Yep, you guessed it. She had a huge, giant pie.

Everyone gaped at her as she made her way to Harry and Ron. She slapped a few boys along the way who were trying to touch her pie. Hermione frowned and shook her head to herself. She sunk down next to Ron, who hid his obvious excitement with a pair of sunglasses.

Come to think of it, the sunglasses might have been the reason the hall fell so still and silent that you could have heard a shrimp drop. Who knows? They were normal sunglasses, not funky ones, and they could have easily shocked the horde of funky-sunglass worshipping students. The Hogwarts bouncers were forced to remove him and his sunglasses from sight and throw him off campus, out on the street with the other funky sunglass-less bums.

'Er…' Hermione glanced curiously at Ron and the bouncers out the window, but was jolted right back to the hall when she felt someone eying her pie.

'Harry!' she snapped. 'Stop staring at my pie.'

'But it looks so good…and delicious…' Harry mumbled to himself. He seemed barely aware of what he was saying.

'Harry, you are not to touch this pie,' Hermione ordered.

'Is it blueberry?' Harry asked dreamily.

'No, it's cherry,' Hermione declared proudly. Harry shot the pie another longing look, which Hermione didn't miss. 'Don't you touch this pie, Harry Potter,' she warned, 'or I'll…I'll…spank you.' To Harry, it wasn't such a raw deal. But he decided he better not eat it and make his one and only love angry. It just wasn't worth it, even if the pie did look so nice…and soft…and squishy, oh…_STOP THAT_! He ordered himself. _No pie._

'Fine, my lov…er, I mean, Hermione,' he sighed. 'You think I have no willpower, don't you? I'm hurt. Well I'll inform you that I jolly well do have willpower! I have no need for that pie…that pie, with its crisp and flaky crust and gooey cherry interior, and delicious aroma that is wafting into my nostrils…'

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned around in her chair to get a book. When she resurfaced from her bottomless pit of a bag, she gasped and shrieked out in anger.

The pie was gone, and only a speckling of crumbs littering the table suggested it ever existed.

Harry had red smears around his mouth.

'WHO DID THIS!' Hermione yelled furiously. 'HARRY?'

'I didn't do it,' Harry shrugged meekly.

'But who…' Hermione mumbled to herself. She trailed off to glare at Malfoy, who smirked back at her. She would have bet every galleon she had it had been him, but she couldn't prove it.

'I bet it was him,' Harry suggested. 'Dirty, good for nothing…'

'Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't,' Hermione mused. 'But I'll find out who ate my pie…and they shall pay! Dearly!' And, with a departing melodramatic cackle, she stormed out of the hall.


	5. The Search For The Pie Thief

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, or else I wouldn't be writing a disclaimer.

**Chapter 5 **

**The Search For the Pie Thief…and killing Gnomes with Sporks!**

Anyone who dare roam Hogwarts at that ungodly hour of the night may have heard a strange, eerie noise ricocheting throughout the corridors. It filled every crack, every crevasse, every solid stone gargoyle with fear and apprehension. It's tremor filled even the bravest soul's heart with dread…

It was Hermione, humming her theme song.

She and Harry flitted through the corridors, jumping behind pillars and statues at the slightest noise or flicker, all the while making gun shadow puppets on the wall with their thumbs and index fingers. It was all pretty darn fun.

Hermione was on the warpath. Whoever had eaten her wonderful pie was going to pay…she swore to find them if it was the last thing she did. Unless, of course, the last thing she did was to die. Then it might be the second-to-last thing she did. Oh, heck, it might even be the third-to-last thing she did. But either way, she swore she would get them. Hermione paused a minute to take a post-it note from somewhere deep within the crevasses of her robes and wrote it down, then stuck it on her 'to-do' list. Over the years the list had developed into a pile of post-it notes several feet long that was very difficult to fit in her bookbag.

Harry and Hermione continued along their way to wherever they were going. Hermione was busy amusing herself with a comically misshapen shrimp, while Harry was busy drooling all over her. Hermione didn't mind this, as she had become used to it, but the fact her shrimp was getting all wet and slimy irked her. She rounded on Harry and gave him a good whack upside the head.

'Stop drooling on my shrimp!' she snapped.

'I wasn't drooling on the shrimp, I was drooling on you!' Harry protested. He turned to have a moody teenage sulk, when Hermione began to shriek. He twirled around and grasped her shoulders, staring into her wild, panic-stricken eyes.

'What is it?' he asked with gentle concern. 'What?'

'My…it…oh Harry, a gnome just came up and stole my shrimp!' Hermione wailed.

'You know, crying smudges your make-up,' Harry commented. He took the opportunity to wipe a tear from her cheek, and shuddered from the intimacy of it all.

'Thank you for always being there for me Harry…you're a great friend,' Hermione smiled. She caressed his hand and gazed up to his face with glistening eyes. They stood there like that for another minute or so, and then five more minutes. Not to mention a further ten after that.

'You know,' Hermione muttered after a while, 'You can move your finger from my cheek now.'

'No, I can't,' Harry whispered huskily in her ear.

'Please, Harry,' Hermione sighed. 'I like you, I really do, but not like that'-

'No, I'm serious,' Harry said. 'I can't move my freaking hand, it's stuck in the masses of goop plastered on your face.' Hermione clenched her eyes shut and swore. Things were just going from bad to worse. She reached up and violently tugged at Harry's hand. By George, he was right! The hand was stuck fast.

'Not to worry,' Hermione said with a grin. Harry looked at her hopefully. Did this mean she liked her current situation? That she was willing to let him touch her, to date him, to be his forever, to have a family with his and children and then die and be mummified and put in a museum with him…

'Take this,' Hermione said, snapping Harry out of his fantasy. He looked sadly down at the bottle she handed him. It was her Magical Make Up Removal Kit.

'What do I do with it?' he mumbled dejectedly.

'Put it on my cheek and rub it in, then'- Hermione started, but she was cut off, as people so often are in this story. Because, at that very moment, a gnome happened to come up to her, cackling like a high squirrel, and snatch the bottle of Magical Make Up Remover. He ran off squealing, and Hermione happened to notice a cherry-colored smudge on his head. A smudge as red as the cherries in her pie…did this mean…

'After him!' she shrieked. She would get that pie-snitching twit! Hermione ran over to a random glass case nearby, dragging a still stuck Harry along with her, and smashed it open. Inside was a weapon, one of which she had never seen the likes of before. It was so deadly, so lethal…so totally awesome!

Hermione pocketed the amazing plastic spork and raced after the gnome. Considering it had legs about the size of Hermione's perfectly straight nose, it wasn't hard to catch up with the foul little creature, even having to drag Harry along by the cheek. Literally.

She stooped down and grabbed the gnome, letting it struggle helplessly as it dangled in between her fingertips.

'I'm going to enjoy this…' she said with a malicious grin. And with that, she raised the spork and-

(Censor: The following scene is inappropriate for some audiences. It contains violence, fantasy horror and brief nudity. It also contains a hilarious talking donkey, but that's beside the point.)

'Well, at least we found out who took the pie,' Hermione said with a smile at breakfast the next day. Harry grinned at her from across the table.

'And we learned that humans were not meant to have both make up and opposable thumbs at the same time,' Harry replied, nodding at his hand. It was still glued to Hermione's face, and had turned a bluish color to match her outfit today. She'd told his that pink was so passé, and cut off his circulation by wrapping one of her miniskirts around his wrist.

'So I guess this chapter sort of had a moral to it,' Hermione said thoughtfully. 'Maybe we should say something, you know, important. Or philosophical, or something.' They both thought for a minute, but neither came up with anything good. After finally stopping to think, though, they did realize Ron was still missing.

'Where is he, anyway?' Harry wondered aloud.

'I'm sure he's looking down on us from…a better place,' Hermione said, hanging her head respectfully.

'Hey, you're right!' Harry exclaimed. He pointed at a balcony above them where Ron stood, staring at them beadily. They both waved to him, but he did not wave back. Instead slipped wordlessly into the shadows.

'I wonder what he's up to…' Hermione mused. She reached over to the shrimp bowl, because all that thinking had made her famished. But alas! There were no more shrimp!

'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!' Hermione yowled, sinking to her knees. The shrimp famine had begun.


	6. Harry's Vow

(A/N) Wow…it's been about two years since I've last written on this…oh well, here goes!)

**Chapter 6**

**A Slightly More Tender Moment in Which Harry takes a vow and the author makes a title that is far too long**

All that could be heard ringing through the stone corridors was the echo wheezing. Students collapsed in the hallways; they writhed around on the floors. They twitched during classes. The very tapestries on the walls seemed to melt, and if one were to look very closely at a patch of nearby ground, silvery puddles seemed to form.

'I can't take it anymore!' Hermione finally cried one day, slamming her fist down on the table. 'I can't stand it!' Harry, sitting right next to her, nodded sympathetically and sipped on his milkshake. Not that he had taken in a word she was saying. Ron, on the other hand, was still watching them beadily from the balcony above, rocking back and forth and cradling a bucket of dried shrimp peelings. He vaguely sniffed it until a look of complete and utter contentment and disorientation slid onto his face, and he began to giggle.

'Ron, stop that," Hermione commanded. She reached over and threw a nearby owl at him, forcing him to retreat to the shadows. Hermione cocked an eyebrow and continued reading the enormous book sitting in her lap, which was entitled, _How to Transfigure Prawns, and Other Useful Things to Know_. Though she had needed visit the restricted section of the library to get it, she thought the effort was well worth it. Already she knew how to turn Harry into a crustacean, if the need arose.

Harry finished his milkshake and slammed it down on the table with relish. He smacked his lips and stared out the window at the first years, who were practicing with broomsticks. It brought a smile to his face. They were all hovering in the air, taking gravity by the neck and blowing raspberries in its face. They hovered just above the treetops, much the way a brick wouldn't, unless it were under the influence of a _wingardium leviosa _spell, in which case it might.

'Harry, what are we going to do about this?' Hermione muttered, joining him to stare at the fist years. 'People are dying, Harry. They need shrimp.' Harry nodded seriously, and pondered the problem for a moment.

'Lord Voldemort's behind it,' he said finally. 'I just know it. Only he would do something this cruel, this twisted, this'-

'Well,' Hermione interrupted. 'I kind of thought it was because we had been eating shrimp so much.'

'What are the odds that shrimp are the only food that the wizarding world can't transfigure?' Harry cried, bringing his fist down on the windowsill.

'Wait a minute!' Hermione said suddenly, lighting up. 'I know how we can do it, I read it in a book once!'

'Really?' Harry gasped.

'Nah, I'm just kidding,' said Hermione. 'We're pretty much doomed to be shrimpless forever. Unless we convert to prawns.'

'NEVER!' yelled Harry. 'That's just what Lord Voldemort _wants_ us to do. We must never give in, Hermione!' He looked so passionate and forceful, that, for a split second, Hermione thought him to be attractive. But then she remembered how short he was, and pushed the thought from her mind.

'Harry, Lord Voldemort is gone,' Hermione told him. 'Remember? Dumbledore destroyed him.'

'Well, then, he must have somehow survived. I'm sure of it. Call it woman's intuition, but I'm bloody well sure of it.'

'Um, Harry, you don't _have_ woman's intuition,' Hermione pointed out.

'Eer, yes, of _course_," Harry muttered. Then, quickly changing the subject, he declared, 'I plan to get those shrimps back. I promise.'

'Pinky promise?' Hermione asked, with a tear in her eye. Harry nodded severely, and locked his pinky with hers. They both shuddered at the contact. Then, without further ado, Harry leapt through the window, because he was too eccentric to use the door. He screamed as the shards of glass embedded themselves into his arms, and accio'd his broomstick before he fell to his death.

'What a messed up child,' Hermione sighed, watching Harry fly off into the distance.

(A/N: I'm sorry if it's not up to par, but it's been a while. Cheers to all the people who have reviewed!)


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